


Moonlight Saving Time

by schemingreader



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Snupin Santa Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schemingreader/pseuds/schemingreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't like men," he told himself, "And if I did like men, I wouldn't like werewolves." But what does Snape know about werewolves? There are some things about lycanthropy that no one knows--like why Snape's dreams have been so vivid and strange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight Saving Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Woldy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/gifts).



> There oughta be a moonlight savin' time
> 
> So I can love that man of mine
> 
> Until the birdies wake and chime
> 
> Good morning.

Albus Dumbledore was falling away from him, his burnt hand outstretched, his beard floating. He was already dead and Severus had killed him. Still, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out for Albus uselessly.

Severus woke in his bed at Hogwarts in a cold sweat; he'd had a nightmare. He was generally disciplined about writing them down in the morning. It was one of the things that made him such a good Occlumens, that he had control over his dreams.  
Writing the dreams down made him good at Occlumency, but hiding the dream notebook was what made him good at spying. He knew he'd made coded, charmed, invisible notes about the last dream he'd remembered, which was about Harry Potter growing up with Sirius Black and coming to Hogwarts much taller. That had been peculiar.

It was the stress of Dumbledore's disappearance that made him dream he'd killed him. As grueling as Severus' days were sometimes, waking up in the morning was a relief. No matter how bad things were, his subconscious could always cough up something worse.

He turned on the shower to get ready for the day. Stupid dreams―as if things weren't bad enough already. He leaned back into the hot water sluicing over his back and sighed with the pleasure of being alive and warm and clean.  
Last night's dream had been that Sirius Black had died in the Department of Mysteries and Lucius went to Azkaban, and something about Narcissa―he'd sworn an Unbreakable Vow to kill Dumbledore? Something like that.

He had to start taking antacids after supper. His dreams were too vivid.

 

He had enough trouble in the waking world, taking over as headmaster while the entire Order writhed in hysterics--figuratively, of course. Though Sirius Black did get quite overwrought and blamed Severus for, well, everything.  
Twit. As if he'd wanted to be Headmaster of Hogwarts in the middle of a war. As if he'd wanted to go under cover as a Death Eater. As if he'd wanted any of this.  
Yet there was an odd spring to his step, as though something had been taken off his back, as he hit the stairs up to the main hall for breakfast. He swished into the hall, his cloak billowing behind him.

The faculty was subdued, staring at their plates, toying with their food. A few were drinking tea or coffee with the expressions of small children―wide-eyed, solemn, with both hands around the cup, as though their fingers were cold.  
The students didn't know yet what had happened, Severus could tell, because they were eating and drinking and laughing as usual. When should he tell them? Before they ate? Afterwards? There might be weeping, and vomiting. Severus had felt queasy, yesterday, when Minerva told him she thought Albus had been captured.

Nothing to what Minerva had felt. She had stood very straight and prim and told the senior staff what she suspected, and why. Then she'd sat down abruptly and clutched her left shoulder. Her lips were as pale as her face and there was a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. He realized she was having a heart attack just as Poppy Pomfrey did, and they both dove for her.  
Yes, he'd felt more than a little sick inside.

He sat down in his usual place and a mug of tea appeared before him. He wrapped both hands around it.

What was he going to do without Minerva? For all their rivalry, she was his best friend on the faculty. Her metaphorical heart was stout and strong, but her physical heart had suffered too much at the hands of the Aurors, and the news of Albus' disappearance shocked her into myocardial infarction. He hoped she would at least owl him to say that she was feeling better.  
That would also validate him in the eyes of the rest of the teachers.

Perhaps he'd write to her first, after breakfast―tell her he hoped she was getting better and asking for advice? He could casually share the advice with someone―not Trelawney, they didn't get on―Hagrid?

The groundskeeper looked awful. Severus could not afford for the half-giant to have a nervous breakdown. They weren't close enough for Severus to tell him "Buck up, it will be all right," and what if it were not all right?  
Severus hated to be wrong.  
The morning owls flew into the Great Hall and about twenty of them headed straight for him. A great horned owl reached him first, and dropped a parcel straight on his plate.  
It was the _Daily Prophet_ , wrapped in a single sheet of parchment. He unrolled both. The headline on the front page of the newspaper read, "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE MISSING, FEARED DEAD." The parchment was scrawled in an unknown hand, "How did Rita Skeeter know what happened to the ~~King~~ _Queen_ Bee?"  
And then all hell broke loose. Of the remaining owls Severus had seen headed for him, at least three bore Howlers from parents, which all went up in flames and shouts at the same time. Students dropped utensils, there were loud bellows of teenage disbelief, and some of the girls began weeping. Some got the Prophet at breakfast and some got rapid owls from their parents―it was chaos.

So much for deciding when to tell them.

Severus rose and stood at the podium in the center of the hall. "Your attention," he said, in his best I-don’t-care-whether-you-hear-me-or-not-you-little-cretins manner. Somewhere inside he still had the most miniscule fear that they would not listen, but he pushed it down far enough that the Dark Lord himself wouldn't have been able to detect it.

They quieted and sat, glaring at him with expressions of mingled resentment and relief. They loathed him, and they trusted him to take care of them and to tell them the truth.

"Professor Dumbledore has been unavoidably detained while on a field trip for his own research," Severus said in a bored drawl. "In the absence of Professor McGonagall, I will be performing Professor Dumbledore's administrative duties until his return."

Several students called out to ask where McGonagall was. Severus looked at them until someone raised his hand.

"Ms. Patil," he said, recognizing her. "Five points to Ravenclaw for observing the norms of civilized behavior."

"Where is Professor McGonagall, sir?"

"Professor McGonagall has taken ill. She is resting comfortably at St. Mungo's Hospital," Severus said. "She is not in any danger. Perhaps the challenges of being faculty advisor to House Gryffindor have finally exhausted her iron constitution." Several weeping Gryffindor girls grinned ruefully at this. "You may be assured that she will return to her duties here as soon as her health permits."  
He had succeeded in delivering this last with sufficient disgusted hauteur―how dare they impose on their teachers--that only a few of the students resumed their weeping. The rest seemed reassured, or at least diverted from their worry to annoyance with him.

"For today only, Transfiguration class is cancelled. Students will meet in the Great Hall for supervised study with Mr. Filch. You are dismissed." The students began filing out, only slightly less orderly than usual.

At that moment, another owl arrived for him; it was Minerva's. He couldn't exploit the moment as he might have if the entire faculty had seen him receive it, but he felt a certain measure of relief nevertheless. If Minerva was well enough to send him an owl, she wasn't at death's door. It was sentimental of him at a time like this to care about the old cat's health, he thought as he cracked the seal on the letter, and began to read―oh, bleeding hell! Bollocks to _that!_ There was no way he'd ever consent have Sirius Black _and_ Remus Lupin back at Hogwarts to teach! As though he didn't have better things to do than to stir vats of Wolfbane while he―and she thought the Time Turner would make it possible for him to have enough hours in the day to―as though the school still had a Time Turner!

He had to calm himself immediately. He'd always had an anger problem where Sirius Black was concerned. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

"All right, Severus?"  
He could smell Remus Lupin's vanilla musk, Pears Soap and leather-elbow-patches smell and opened his eyes. Lupin was looking right at him, and suddenly smiled, like he was glad to see him. "Those silly girls," Lupin muttered to himself, shaking his head.

"What? What are you doing here, Lupin? Have you lost what's left of your tiny mind?"  
"Minerva sent me," he said, smiling, or baring his teeth, whichever.  
"I must teach in twenty minutes," Severus said.

"May I walk with you?" The werewolf was polite, as always.

"Why are you here?"  
"Minerva sent me," Remus said. "For the Order."

"You can't teach here," Severus said, preparing himself for an argument.  
"No," Lupin said.  
"It's a shame, though," Severus said to himself.

"What?" Lupin seemed genuinely surprised.

"At least you were a half-way decent Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor."  
"I'm surprised and," Lupin paused, "gratified to hear you say so. But no, I'm afraid too many students know about me."

"But Minerva didn't intend for you to help by teaching," Severus prompted.  
"No, she thinks Sirius can take over her classes until she is recovered," Lupin said. He put his hand out to steady Severus.

"A mild-mannered werewolf is too scary for the children, but a convicted _murderer_ \--"  
"That was rather a miscarriage of justice, wouldn't you say―"

"A terrifying escapee from Azkaban―"

"You yourself were a Death Eater, Severus."

Oh, if that was how he wanted to play it! "And an all around bullying _arse_ \--"  
Lupin quieted. Severus looked at him.

"Well?" Severus asked.

"He is very good at Transfiguration," Lupin said. "One of the best Minerva had in her career, she said."

"But probably not good enough at Potions to assist me through brewing both Polyjuice to disguise him and Wolfsbane to keep you from eating people."  
They walked into Severus' lab―he still had one, even though he was teaching Defence, now--and there were some vials on his desk, with a rolled up parchment.  
Lupin stood in the doorway, alert, with his wand out. He was ready for this to be an attack. Severus unrolled the parchment―it was spelled blank. "Especialis revelio," Severus said, and the words appeared.

> As you see, this is a letter in your handwriting. The accompanying are bases for Polyjuice and Wolfsbane―both are complete until the point of adding the volatile ingredients, and both are under stasis charms.  
> How do you know this is from your future self? You don't, and it's possible that the potion bases won't work after I've brought them back. Lupin seems to think they will, and it's his hide on the line. But think about it―who else do you know would do anything at all, much less travel back in time, just to save you a little work? 

  
Severus rolled up the parchment. "Do _you_ have a Time Turner?" he asked Lupin.

"No, I thought you'd have one."

"Apparently I _will_ have one."

Lupin laughed.  
"You have to keep him in line," Severus said.

"I know. He's not the same man he was."

"Good. I didn’t like the man he was."

Lupin put his hand on Severus' sleeve, and Severus looked at it. What was he doing? Looking soulfully into Severus' face, apparently. "You look good, Severus."  
Severus removed the hand with scrupulous gentleness and the nastiest glare he could produce at the werewolf's foolishly warm grin. "Don't I always," he said.  


* * *

  
After delivering a 45 minute lecture and supervising a 45 minute practical, twice in succession, Severus usually felt drained and in need of food or some kind of stimulant. He didn't want to smoke―when had he given it up? That was another thing in his dream this morning. He'd dreamed of smoking.  
He shook his head. No woolgathering; no rest for the wicked; no time to dash downstairs for a cup of tea. Except that someone had left him a whole pot of tea and a plate of biscuits―and another note.

> Dear Severus,  
> I too am writing from the future. Funny―letters usually arrive from the past, don't they? My past self doesn't know about how grumpy you get when you haven't had a proper tea break.
> 
> Drink it and have a biscuit. You're about to get a very annoying letter from the Hogwarts Board of Directors, as I recall, and you'll need the fortification.

  
"Sod off, Lupin," Severus said. The letter continued,

> Sod off yourself, mate,  
> Remus

  
It was builder's tea, strong, hot and sweet, with chocolate Hob Nobs, which Severus' secretly loved. Lupin walked in. "I could murder for a cuppa," he said.  
"There's plenty," Severus said.

"Arrangement with the house elves?"

"No, with a friend who has a time turner," Severus said. He'd said "friend," hadn't he? He shoved the parchment over.

"It's true, all letters are from friends in the past," Lupin said.

"Shut it," Severus said, "Friend." An owl flew in.

"Here it is then," Lupin said.

"You read it," Severus said. He put both hands around the teacup.  
"Am I your correspondence secretary now?"

"You did bring me tea."  
"Future me," Lupin said pedantically, "brought _us_ tea."  
"Then immediate-future-you may read the damned letter."

Lupin grinned and opened the parchment.

"That Lucius Malfoy," Lupin said, "is such a dear man. "

Severus glared.  
"He's writing to tell you that the rest of the Board of Governors would like to meet with you, perhaps to ask you to step down as interim Headmaster in favor of a Ministry appointee, but that he, Malfoy, will support you."  
"Reassuring," Severus said, but it came out a little surlier than he'd intended.  
"Also, he's going to drop in on you on Thursday at 6PM."

"Shit," Severus commented concisely.

Lupin looked around and cast a few spells for privacy. "Severus," he said. "May I ask you something?"

Severus tried not to look impatient. "I've largely evaded having to spy on the Dark Lord by persuading him that a decentralized model of small activist cells is better than a central committee of leaders."  
"What do you mean, 'evaded'? Weren't you providing critical information and the opportunity to sabotage their actions?"

Severus lifted an eyebrow. "What have they done lately? They can't function without strong, centralized leadership."

"What have they done? Oh, nothing, except possibly, capturing Albus Dumbledore." Lupin saw something in Severus' face that made him put his hand on Severus' shoulder. "Which they might not have told you in any case, since―" He dropped his hand. "I could see why they might have kept it from you."

The door banged open heavily and a man with yellow hair and glasses slouched into the room.  
"Oh, that's very effective," Severus said. "No one could possibly guess who you were."  
"Shut it, Snape."  
"What's your alias? Professor Le Noir?"

"All right, you two," Lupin said.

"Why couldn't Minerva have sent Nymphadora Tonks?" Severus wondered. "She certainly excels in Transfiguration, and she wouldn't need Polyjuice."  
Lupin looked at his shoes.  
Black snickered. "Remus wanted to help you and he and Tonks―"

"Were dating, I believe?" Severus completed.

Lupin looked even more uncomfortable. "Not―exactly."

Black's snickering grew more obnoxious. "Snape was there when the whole Order came to my house for a meeting and overheard the two of you fucking in the boxroom right next to the library."

Lupin looked down and muttered something about being good friends.

"I'd say we didn't know you had it in you, but we did," Black continued. "And exactly where it was in you. And how you found a woman who could grow one. "  
Severus would have enjoyed Lupin's discomfiture if Black weren't enjoying it so much. "Ah, friendship," Severus said. "How sad I am, Lupin, that I don't have friends like yours."

Lupin's face could only be described as grateful. "I have one I could lend you indefinitely," he said, jerking his head toward Black.

"Oi, mate," Black said. "You don't even like birds and you can pull. I'm expressing nothing but admiration." That was Black for you. First he outs his supposed best friend as a werewolf, then as a homosexual. Thank heaven he and Snape had never liked each other. Lupin's neck was flushed.  
"Thank yourself for the tea later," Severus said to Lupin, and got up. "I have to write to Lucius Malfoy to try to stave off his support. Black, or whatever you call yourself, I will need two weeks of lesson plans."  
"I have to submit my lesson plans to you?"

"I would prefer you not disturb Minerva with additional work in her hospital bed―" Snape began.

"Perhaps she would enjoy reading them," Lupin said.

"I fear she will assume I'm punishing her for foisting you on me." He thought for a moment. "Very well. Minerva can surely take care of herself, if you want to risk annoying her. Her tongue isn't impaired. _Someone_ will check your lessons plans before you get up in front of a class at Hogwarts―and I want information about this alias you've concocted," Severus paused. "Blondie."

Black curled his lip, or the lip of whomever he was impersonating, and Severus swept from the room.

* * *

  
What if Lupin was right? What if Severus could have prevented Albus Dumbledore's disappearance?  
But it was Albus' idea as much as his to sabotage Voldemort's organization. He was the one who found the article about decentralized terror groups in some Muggle publication. Of course it was Severus who started them laughing at the idea of the Death Eaters trying to function that way.

At this point, did any of them trust Severus?

What if they had already killed Albus? If they had, they surely would have crowed about it.  
He knew he wasn't himself in his afternoon classes. The problem was, he'd had to take over Potions as well as DADA, because Horace Slughorn was ill. (His illness was probably hysterical, but Severus took over the class without a word of reproach.) Longbottom nearly melted his cauldron, again, in his joint Gryffindor/Slytherin sixth period class. Severus hadn't suspected that. He thought Longbottom had gained more confidence.

Apparently he was only confident in Defence classes. He was, after all, a quintessential Gryffindor―never ineffectual or foolish in a fight, but easily rattled outside of one.  
Too complacent, Severus thought. I was too complacent to notice the impending disaster, just as I had been with Albus.

With great effort, he kept his temper in check, and only indulged in taking points, not insults.  
It was beneath his dignity to behave that way; he was headmaster, now. At least, he would be headmaster until Albus and Minerva returned.

Everyone must suspect him, as a former Death Eater, of engineering Albus' disappearance.  
Wait. _Everyone_ must suspect him of engineering Albus' disappearance! He began to walk a little faster from the dungeon to the Great Hall for dinner. Ha! Everyone! Those idiots! Lucius Malfoy! He was practically grinning. A first-year scurried out of his way with a little squeak.

If he didn't know better, he'd almost suspect Albus of having set this up, but he'd never do that. Not while the Potter boy still needed his help and guidance, not to mention the entire Order. Would he?

* * *

In spite of everything, the other faculty loved Remus Lupin. They all wanted to sit next to him at dinner, but he sat between Filius Flitwick and Severus. Several of them violated the decorum of the meal to come stand behind his chair and have a conversation.

Lupin included Severus in all conversations, as though they were at a cocktail party.  
"Naturally, I'm not staying at the castle," Lupin explained to Charity Burbage. "I can't count on Severus to save the day every time." He placed his hand on Severus' forearm. What did that mean? "I do trust your Wolfsbane potion, of course," he said, looking at Severus' face.  
It was a public declaration of support, he supposed, but it looked a little too much like Lupin was flirting with him. On such a subject, and in this company, it was entirely inappropriate.

Not that he would have minded in another context, under other circumstances. Lupin had warm hands. He was a warm person, Severus' unhelpful mind volunteered. "I don't like men," he told himself, but his feelings ran ahead, setting an adolescent flutter in the pit of his stomach, making his blood rush to his face. "And if I did like men, I wouldn't like werewolves," he continued to argue, but it was pointless. The imprint of Lupin's hand was like a twin of the Dark Mark, on the outside of the other arm―a warm place that throbbed with pleasure instead of pain.  
He was too lonely, if such simple friendliness excited these feelings. Though he thought if Sirius Black put a conciliatory hand on Severus' arm or shoulder, he'd have punched him in the nose fast and hard, by reflex, even though he knew twenty-seven appropriate hexes.

Lupin removed his hand and passed Severus a pitcher of water.

Severus didn't really have proper friendships. There was Lily, but―he winced. He would never get over that. He'd always liked her as more than a friend, he'd alienated her, and she died. He put down his fork and told himself to stop thinking about it. Whenever he thought about her, he felt a certain nausea, and it took all his self-discipline not to think about her at meals. He took a sip of water.

Then there were all the Death Eaters―he hadn't really liked any of them in the first place. There was Albus, who considered Severus his friend but was utterly tone-deaf to Severus' feelings, or perhaps intentionally cruel. There were the people he knew mainly through the Order of the Phoenix, who didn't like or trust him.

He liked his work colleagues. He liked Minerva. She was much older but she treated him like her friend. She drank with him.

He missed her.

He liked Pomfrey, though she teased him, and Hagrid, in spite of his obtuseness, and Pomona Sprout, with her matter-of-fact ways.

Hogwarts was a good place to work. He had to protect it.

He doubted any of them considered him a friend, though. Lupin smiled at him and Severus shook his head.  


* * *

  
Severus looked for his dream notebook before he went to bed, but it still hadn't turned up. After a day like this one, he'd surely dream.

He wanted to masturbate, which wasn't usual for him. All that proximity to Lupin, all that touching, the discussion of Lupin in the little boxroom, audibly begging Tonks to fuck him harder―

Lying in his bed, he imagined himself on top of Lupin, in the small space. Perhaps there was a mattress on the floor or they'd cast an expansion charm. Perhaps they had just enough room to stand. Lupin would grasp the shelf, sweat pouring off him from the heater in the little room, and Severus would swing his hips―he swung them now, his prick rubbing against the mattress. Lupin would gasp, would say, "Oh God, you're so big," and "Fuck me, Snape, just fuck me," would groan and grunt and want to feel Severus' come gushing into him, rivers of come, oceans of come. He imagined he was spurting inside someone else as he came against the sheet.  
As he panted there on his elbows, head down and flushed, Severus reflected. It was the werewolf thing, had to be. Severus had noticed men, had even noticed other women than Lily sometimes, but he hadn't come while thinking of anyone he knew in years. Some lycanthropic pheromone had gone straight to Severus' balls.

He imagined there was a reason why Lupin had to be in his bed, why they had to huddle for warmth. They were in the woods, on the run, and it was dreadfully cold. As a lycanthrope, Lupin was warmer than he. He would put his arms around Severus and his body heat would surround him.

He had to sleep. He cast a warming charm rather than asking an elf to build the fire, and drifted off.

In his dream, he was arguing with Albus Dumbledore, and he was furious. In order to defeat the Dark Lord, Harry Potter had to die. Every protective feeling he'd ever had toward her orphaned little boy surfaced, and he was yelling at Albus in disgust.

Albus mocked him in return, for caring what happened to a student, for caring. He thought perhaps he was mocking Severus for hoping to live.

He woke up still angry, but it wasn't real. He was sweaty and sticky and had to get into the shower before he did anything else.

As he soaped up he recalled mornings, and they didn't seem so long ago, when he'd lit up a cigarette sitting up in bed―days when he skipped the shower to have more time to plan before class. It seemed distant and unlike him, but he could remember it. He rinsed his hair again and soaped up.  
There was something off about these dreams. Suddenly he remembered Potter's doomed attempts at Occlumency and his near cross-eyed absorption in whatever the Dark Lord shared with him.

Were his dreams about Albus correct? Did Potter have to die to kill Voldemort? Or was Voldemort himself sending Severus dreams? Perhaps he took too much pride in his Occlumency.

Severus thought about it as he dried his hair and got dressed. Either way, he was going to protect Harry Potter. The way to win this war before it started, the way to defeat whatever it was Voldemort stood for, was to take away his power. Without followers, he was nothing, and the followers he had couldn’t stand without him.

Severus could do it, and he would. He would play them all off against each other and he would win.

* * *

  
This sense of confidence, enhanced by clean clothing and the sleep of the freshly-orgasmed, did not last. He knew he had to meet with Malfoy at the end of the day, and this was also the first day of Sirius Black teaching. He'd mixed in the remaining ingredients into Lupin's Wolfsbane; it would be ready in the evening, and he couldn't forget to give it to him.  
Minerva's owl arrived first of all the birds at breakfast. He gave the owl a triangle of toast and it flew off. Minerva obviously hadn’t been pleased to have to read Black's ridiculous lesson plans. She had sent them back to Severus, marked in the margins with red ink.

He _was_ planning to call himself Monsieur Le Noir. What an _idiot_. Severus tried not to look like he had a headache.

 

* * *

The Floo in the outer office flared at 6:21; Malfoy was such an ass, to call a meeting at 6PM and then to come late to it _by Floo_.  
At least he'd stopped smiling―though perhaps a smile would have been more enigmatic and frightening.  
Malfoy embraced him, which was unexpected and off-putting. Severus felt his shoulders tighten and rise, and had trouble forcing them back down. He was not a man for sudden hugs, and certainly not sudden hugs from other sometime Death Eaters.

"I was so sorry to hear about Dumbledore," Malfoy said in a soft, sincere voice.  
"Yes," Severus answered.

"And you don't know what happened to him?" Malfoy asked.

"You may speak freely here," Severus said. "I have several soundproofing charms on my outer office."

"Severus, you're a genius," Malfoy said.

"Excuse me?"  
"With all your talk about parallel cells and defusing responsibility―you've given yourself plausible deniability."

"I don't know where the headmaster is, I assure you," Severus replied coldly.  
"Of course you don't, of course you don't," Malfoy replied, smirking. He paced, twirling his stupid cane. "I'll never know whether you masterminded this or just waited for it to happen. Has the Dark Lord been in touch?"  
"I thought surely you―"  
"No, no!" he said, smiling more broadly. "Lately I've been functioning independently, like you."

"Ah, functioning independently," Severus said. He hadn't heard anything from Voldemort either. Though perhaps the note that came with his newspaper clipping this morning―It wasn't as though he could recognize the Dark Lord's handwriting, for goodness sake. Or he supposed, for badness sake. Whatever.  
Malfoy waxed enthusiastic about Severus' cleverness, about plausible deniability and being Veritaserum-proof, and how happy the Dark Lord must be. He tried to pump Severus for clues about Voldemort's plans, and generally tried to figure out which side Severus supported.

Severus tried to convey the impression that he had inside information from the Dark Lord without actually saying anything.

After twenty-five minutes of this, Severus was light-headed with exhaustion and boredom. Good heavens, he never thought Malfoy was this tedious when they were at school. He'd been so handsome and charismatic.

He was still handsome. Severus amused himself by observing how the tiny lines by Lucius' eyes made him even more attractive, how his high cheekbones lent dignity to his hauteur, and the fine golden hairs of his eyebrows made him seem somehow surprised. He wasn't Severus' type, of course. Not that Severus had thought he had a type when it came to men.

"Severus?" Malfoy said.

"You were saying?" Severus said, using his inattention to pretend he was feigning inattention.  
"I see," Malfoy said, looking at him with puzzled fondness. "You're not going to tell me your plans."

"Plans?" Severus said blandly. "I have a responsibility to the children and their parents to run the school to the best of my ability until Albus Dumbledore returns, or until we know his fate."

Malfoy laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Yes! You're wonderful. I will convey these sentiments to the Board of Governors."

With a final handshake―damn, he couldn't keep his hands off, could he?―Malfoy stepped into the fireplace, threw a pinch of powder, intoned his address, and disappeared.  
After a few minutes had passed, Severus sank into an armchair.

The Floo flared. "Severus?" Lupin said, his head surrounded by a green nimbus.  
"Come through," Severus said.

"Really?"  
"Lupin."  
"I'll bring something to drink," he said, and turned away for a moment. "Could you bring the Headmaster some sandwiches?" he asked someone in the room.

"That had better be a house-elf and not Monsieur Le Noir," Severus said, exaggerating his fake French accent.

"I'll have you know that Monsieur Le Noir makes excellent sandwiches," Lupin said. "But I think at Hogwarts, only elves are allowed to make them."

"Union rules," Severus said, and Lupin laughed. He walked through the Floo with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses dangling from one large hand.  
"When you drink with the Order, you get the good Muggle stuff," Lupin explained, showing him the bottle.

A plate of sandwiches appeared at Severus' elbow with a flask of tea and a pot of milk, and Lupin thanked the air, which then produced cups, saucers, plates and a bowl of crisps.  
Severus poured a cup of the tea and waved off Lupin's offer of whiskey, but then changed his mind. It was good whiskey and a shame to waste it in tea, but it was good to be warm. He sipped and ate his sandwich.

"Rough day," Lupin said. "How was your meeting with Malfoy?"  
Severus swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. "It went well. Do you know where Albus is?"  
"I have a theory," Lupin said.

"I think you know something definite that no one else does," Severus said.  
Lupin actually cocked his head to one side. "Not about where Albus is."  
"I think there are things about werewolves that most wizards don't know, and that's why."  
"That's why what?"  
"That's why you knew I needed tea and a sandwich."

Lupin laughed.  
"I mean, that's why the future you knew that. Something is happening with time." Lupin didn't nod or say anything. "Something is happening with time, and you can't tell me what it is." He obviously couldn't respond to that, either, but his eyes flickered in a way that Severus took to be assent.

"How much do you know about werewolves?" Lupin asked. "Of course, there are some things no one knows."

"Are all werewolves like you? I know some things about you," Severus said.  
"Such as?"  
"You don't get angry. I used to think that you had to be in league with Black because you didn't get angry with him about telling me where you changed…" He couldn't say more because Lupin's head came up and his eyes, which Severus could see had irises as beautiful as an animal's, were on Severus'.  
"Ah," Lupin said. "But now you know that I didn't yell at you, either, so now you can finally believe I wasn't trying to eat you."  
"I don't recall you looking this well," Severus blurted.

"You didn't, either," Lupin said. "You used to act like you thought personal grooming was a triviality, and now look at you."

Lupin did look, his eyelids a little low on his eyes, his lips curving upward a little, his head tilted, like he was proud, or hypnotized. It was either a warm and friendly expression, or a werewolf about to pounce on prey.  
There was an explosion in the fireplace.

The Floo was warded. It shouldn't have been possible for Death Eaters to jump into his room through the fire. They ran into the room quickly, wands out, sparks flying.  
Lupin leapt to his feet without an oath or even an exhalation and began casting disarming spells. His reaction time was even shorter than Severus'. They were outnumbered, but not for long. Within minutes, Sirius Black burst through the outer office door in his blond guise, leading Filius, Hagrid and Nymphadora Tonks.

 

One of the Death Eaters bellowed, "Snape, you bleedin' traitor!" Why he even bothered wearing a mask was a mystery. Anyone who knew Goyle would know it was he, big lumbering ox.

Sirius Black knew a lot of truly frightening curses, but that was fine; Severus knew them too. He could fight as dirty as Black, even when they were on the same side. Tonks took out Goyle and Lupin got some werewolf Severus didn't know. Lupin was snarling in rage and his eyes bulged.  
"Lupin," Severus said. "Stand back!" He cast to tie the half dozen Death Eaters with rope, and then waited while Black cast something significantly stronger.

"He bit me," Lupin gasped in his ear.

"What, just now?"  
"No, Severus," Lupin said, his face very hot and red. "He bit me when I was six. When he was transformed. He cursed me." He pulled back with his wand, and Severus grabbed his arm.

"It's fine, Lupin," he said. "It's fine. He's not going anywhere, and we have to go check on the students."

"Oh, right," Lupin said, and very quickly wheeled for the door, the rest of the company in pursuit. In full battle mode, Lupin moved fast.  
The students were in the Great Hall for supper when Severus and his allies reached the hall. The double doors at the end of the hall banged open and revealed a guerilla team of twenty Death Eaters with Voldemort at their head. Most of the students were shrieking with fear and making things explode unintentionally, though a small group had formed a phalanx around Harry Potter and were firing off defensive spells. Huge silver Patroni flew and gamboled and galloped overhead, and wandlight flashed. Everywhere were plumes of colored smoke.

Voldemort stood and began declaiming in a booming voice. "Severus Snape! You are a traitor. If you want to prove your loyalty to me, give me Harry Potter."  
Not realizing that his own voice had been magically amplified, Severus was mortified that his muttered, "No fear, you old frog-face," was audible to the entire school. It sounded so _northern_ \--he hadn't meant to say it out loud at all, much less to the Dark Lord, his minions, and all the world. Students began laughing and cheering.  
Potter smiled at him, a brilliant flash of surprise. There was a shriek. Voldemort had grabbed one of the students and was threatening her with a wand.  
"Shall I cruciate one of your students, Severus?"

"No!" Pomfrey shouted.  
Potter moved forward lifting his wand. "Expelliarmus!" he said, not loudly, and the girl was pulled out of the Dark Lord's grasp. Voldemort grabbed another of his friends. "You've got me, Tom," Potter said. "What do you need with her?"

"What are you doing?" Severus yelled, but the boy marched right up to the noseless freak and practically demanded to be killed.

"Seriously, Tom, let her go," Potter said, and, as though mesmerized, the Dark Lord did. None of his followers grabbed the child, either. "You have me," Potter said. "What's your plan?"  
"I'm going to kill you," the Dark Lord said. It was quiet in the room.

"You're going to try," Harry Potter said. He put his wand into his pocket. "All right."  
 _"Avada Kedavra!"_ It was loud and there was a green flash and Potter fell like a little sapling tree.

And then Voldemort fell, too, but to his knees, clutching his head and cursing in Parseltongue. "Ssss sssss Nagini sssss," he babbled in a barely-audible whisper, but the snake did not come.

"She's dead," a clear young voice called out. "I killed her." It was Neville Longbottom. He stepped forward to stare the evil wizard in the face, but the self-styled Lord Voldemort was not looking at him.  
Indeed, it seemed Voldemort was melting into the floor, hissing all the while, like a cinema witch or a balloon with the air let out. A few of the children ran to Potter's side. None of the Death Eaters went to see Voldemort, who neither lived nor died, but shrank.

Potter's friends bent over him and Severus wiped his eyes. He'd failed, again. He didn't want anyone to see him. Lupin put a hand on his shoulder. Severus knew whose hand it was without turning.

"I'm all right," Potter said quietly into the gloom and smoke. "He missed. I was just pretending."

Missed, hell. He didn't miss! Harry Potter had taken another Avada Kedavra and survived. Potter's friends helped him stand.

At least thirty witches and wizards suddenly understood that they had an opportunity to kill Voldemort, and the air exploded with curses. Severus couldn't tell whether the curses had done anything, since the shrinking figure blinked out of existence.

There was a murmur in the room, and then a roar of conversation, and Severus staggered back and fell into a chair. None of the Death Eaters seemed interested in continuing to fight, with the exception of Bellatrix Lestrange, who spontaneously burst into flames with accidental magic and had to be put out and carried off to the hospital wing.

"Where's Dumbledore?" someone asked, and another voice said, "It's all right, Snape took care of us," which wasn't true, but it made Severus realize he needed to stand up and say something.

"Hot chocolate," Lupin said. "There were Dementors and I know you could use this," and he wrapped Severus' fingers around the handle. Severus took a small sip and a good sniff.

"Ta," he said, and stood up. The entire room turned toward him, and he amplified his voice. "Hogwarts students, you have acquitted yourselves admirably," he said. There was a small cheer, which he quelled with a stern glance. "Please return to your houses so that we can assess the damage to the school and account for each student and staff member."  
The staff rose and the children miraculously lined up by houses and filed out of the room.  
"I need a house elf," Severus said, and one appeared at his elbow. "The students need food and medicinal-quality chocolate. Can you see to that?"  
"Yes, Headmaster," the elf said, with only a slight squeak.

"Wolfsbane," Severus said, a chill going through him. "Come back to my office, Lupin."  
"Greyback is there," Lupin said.

Severus smacked his forehead. He'd forgotten about being the Headmaster. No one was going to take care of the criminals bound in his office. "Quickly," he said. He grabbed Lupin's arm and they Apparated.

"How?" Lupin asked.  
Severus shrugged. "Headmaster?" he guessed.

They found the Death Eaters still bound, and facing Aurors, including Tonks. Kingsley Shacklebolt nodded to them.

"Before we release these people to your custody," Severus said, "I would like to hear them arrested."

"What?" Lupin whispered.  
"I don't want anyone taken away to Azkaban, or taken away by wizards in disguise who aren't proper Aurors. I'm Headmaster. Things have to be done properly."  
"But the rest of them got away in the confusion downstairs," Tonks pointed out.  
Shacklebolt didn't bat an eye. He was always the best of them. He took out his wand, and said, "I arrest you in the name of the Ministry of Magic, on suspicion of having invaded a school and attacked teachers. You will be held under auror authority in custody until trial." The wand glowed blue and emitted a small, Patronus-like beacon―it looked like a falcon.  
"All right," Severus said. "I don't want people arrested merely for _being Death Eaters_ , and I don't want people taken away without arrest."

"I didn't even know that charm existed," Lupin said. Several of the aurors flushed or looked down.

Lupin was still staring, rapt, at the werewolf who'd turned him. He didn't look well. His eyes were just a little too beautiful to be human.

"Remus," Severus said. "Remus! Let's go."

They didn't Apparate again, because Severus had a little more self-control. He kept thinking of all the accidental magic he'd seen in the last day. Minerva would be appalled, in particular at Severus' own lapse.

"Here," Severus said. The potion was ready and bubbling, and he poured it into a non-reactive goblet. Remus sat and slowly drank it.

"The full moon is in three days," he said. "Sorry, two days."  
"You forget when it is," Severus observed.

"Part of the curse," Lupin said. "If werewolves had complete control over their transformations, the curse could hardly spread, could it? Not much of a curse if we could decide not to communicate it." He didn't sound bitter about it, only matter-of-fact. He looked up into Severus' face. "Thank you for being angry."

"Why? I've mostly been angry with you."

"You can't be angry with someone who isn't a person," Lupin said.  
Severus nodded. "What happened to our timeline, Lupin? Someone did something. If I guess, will you be able to confirm it?"

Lupin nodded experimentally, and then said, "Yes." He paused. "Yes, I think I can do that."

"It has something to do with the full moon," Severus speculated.  
"Yes, that's right."  
"Someone manipulated time with a time-turner or a spell during a full moon, and you were able to tell because―because of the change?"  
"When I change back, I remember the old timeline and the new. They're like silver threads. Any road, they did all their little time experiments on the full moon."  
"In another timeline, things happened very differently, and Albus Dumbledore died."  
Lupin nodded, swallowing.  
"In at least one timeline," Severus guessed, "I had to kill Dumbledore, because he thought it was necessary."

"How did you know that?"  
"I had dreams about it," Severus said. "He also wanted me to―he wanted to― Ugh. He wanted Harry Potter to sacrifice himself, like Lily did."  
"Which he did, today," Lupin said.

"You saw that too," Severus said. "I wanted to kill the little idiot for that."  
Lupin started to laugh. It was a nice laugh―a little hoarse, a little infectious. "Too bad we don't have that whiskey now," he said.

"Do werewolves have high alcohol tolerance?"

"No, actually. I can't drink much before I become very silly."

"I might like to see that," Severus said. _I would? Would I?_  
He couldn't believe he was flirting with the werewolf.

"What's your worst memory of me, at school?" Lupin asked, very softly.  
"Seeing you change―no, wait." He couldn't remember which things had really happened. "Did I see you change?"

"I think so. But it's not the time James held you upside down and pantsed you."  
"You were feeling guilty because you tattled."

"Well," Lupin said. "No."

"Good, it was the right thing to do. I was angry and humiliated then, but now that I'm a teacher, I realize―If Minerva hadn't come to intervene, it would have been much worse."

"I didn't--I don't know which one is the original timeline, but I remember one in which I did nothing."

Severus looked at him. "I see."

"But now there's another version, and I think it's the one we're in now."  
"In which you got up and got a teacher," Severus said. "What changed?"  
"Luna Lovegood ran up to me and reported that some boys were torturing another student and said I had to get a teacher. So I…I ran for McGonagall. Later I realized she must have used a Time Turner."

"She's one of the 'silly girls'?"

Lupin nodded. "There were three, like the Fates."

"Hermione Granger was one, surely," Snape said.

"They wanted to change a few things in the past so that more of our generation survived the war. They kept messing about with days that fell on a full moon."  
"So you knew what had changed."

Lupin nodded, and blinked, and swallowed, and blinked. "I could tell the difference in you immediately. It was easier for you to forgive me for being a werewolf and nearly eating you because you know I stood up for you then."  
"Perhaps it was that." Severus said. "I think it was Minerva McGonagall. It was important to me that a teacher cared about me, even though it was the head of another House. It seemed like no one cared, but she-- she is a very upright witch. Very fair."

Lupin nodded, his eyes bright. He leaned forward a little. It was expected and unexpected at the same time―Lupin licked his lips, looked at Severus' mouth, and then they were kissing.

"You know, you really are―" Lupin said, right by his ear.

"What?"  
"Lovely," Lupin said. His voice was low, and there was a smile in it. Severus opened his eyes and leaned back in the other man's embrace.  
"I'm lovely?"  
Lupin smiled. Perhaps his eyes were always beautiful, even when they were full of human feeling. "Well, I love you, so that's what I think."  
"Why?"  
Lupin looked sad and pleased at the same time. "Because I've seen you in more than one timeline, and you're always the surliest bastard, always the most stubborn about doing the right thing when it's not to your advantage, always hiding your loyalty and your immensely loving heart."  
"Oh," Severus said. "So you're queer, are you."

Lupin laughed again, and then Severus kissed him, and he could taste the residue of the Wolfsbane on his tongue. Horrible; he decided to root around in Lupin's neck by his ear, instead, and that was better. He thought it wasn't very different, kissing a man, and then Lupin licked his ear, and he didn't think about anything at all for a bit.

They tumbled onto the sofa and he was on top of Lupin and it was, fuck, so good, the way Lupin got his hands into Severus' pants and grabbed his arse and then banished their clothing. His prick slid along Lupin's thigh. Lupin wrapped a hand around their two cocks, and Severus humped, and everything slid so sharp and fine and tight together. "Remus," he said, and Lupin gasped, "I'm going to come," and then he did, and oh, the slickness, the smell of semen. His cock slid in the spunk and the hair on Lupin's belly, and Lupin stroked the crack of Severus' are, and Severus felt his balls draw up. He shuddered all over and dragged a groan from the deeps of his throat, and came so hard that he couldn't see.

It was all so intense that it took him a few minutes to come back to himself. He was panting and sweating in Lupin's very warm, nude embrace. They were a little sticky, and his feet were tangled in Lupin's.

He leaned forward and kissed Lupin's lips a few times.

"Sorry about the Wolfsbane," Lupin said hoarsely.

"I don't mind making it," Severus said.

"I meant the taste," Lupin said, and Severus dragged a finger in the cooling mess on their bellies and put it into his mouth, and grinned.

"Tastes fine," Severus said, and Lupin kissed him so that he lost his breath for a minute.

"I didn't even think you liked men," Lupin said.

Severus shrugged.  
Lupin kissed him again. He grabbed his wand from the arm of the sofa and cleaned them up, and summoned a blanket.

"I suppose this is the future," Severus said. It was so warm in the werewolf's arms, and he was sleepy.

"I suppose so," Lupin said. He was playing with Severus' hair, and for a wonder Severus was enjoying it. "It's the latest I can recall on any timeline."  
Severus caught a breath. "In this one, we both live," he said.

Lupin nodded. "And some others do, too," he said. His arms tightened their hold a little.  
"Good," Severus said. "I prefer my future as crowded as possible."  
"I'm glad you're headmaster," Lupin said.

"I had not imagined anyone telling me that whilst naked," Severus murmured. "Reflects badly on my creativity."

Lupin kissed his face, and he drifted to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The song "There Ought to Be a Moonlight Saving Time" is an old standard with lyrics by Irving Kahal and music by Harry Richman. It was covered by Blossom Dearie, and you can listen to her sing it on Youtube here. The story has almost nothing to do with the song, as you'll see, but it's a light, catchy little number and I hope the story has the same feeling.


End file.
